


At the Quiet Limit of the World

by Supreme_Thunder



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Fantasy, M/M, Merpeople AU, Smut, Starcrossed Lovers, Suicidal Thoughts, merMakoto, this has a focus on the friendship between Makoto and Haruka as well, witches and curses and the power of true love etc.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-03-07 02:20:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3157511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supreme_Thunder/pseuds/Supreme_Thunder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sousuke Yamazaki has just received the worst news of his life. He can no longer swim because of an overworked shoulder, and his life is pretty much over. Until a series of strange events occur, and he meets a merman with the greenest eyes he has ever seen. As Sousuke begins to understand the mysteries of the ocean, he finds himself falling in love, realizing that miracles are very much possible.</p>
<p>This fic is based very closely on an original idea by bluejugoking, who will continue to help me out with plot details and the sex lives of merpeople as we go along.<br/>The title is taken from "Tithonus" by Tennyson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Green Eyes and a Dream of the Ocean

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bluejugoking](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluejugoking/gifts).



**_"None is travelling_ **

**_Here along this way but I,_ **

**_This autumn evening."_**

**_-Matsuo Basho_ **

 

“You won’t swim again, Yamazaki-kun. Not unless you encounter a miracle of some sort in this very unremarkable world.” The doctor had sighed as she removed her glasses, unable to meet his eyes after giving him the worst news of his young life.

Sousuke Yamazaki, 17 and already done with the pain this life has burdened him with, had stared aimlessly ahead of him, taking in nothing at all.

He couldn’t have heard that right. That could not be true. He had such bright, shining plans. He had dreamed such golden dreams. He had so very long to live. So very long.

“But, what if I rest for a bit, and do physical therapy? And you could give me some painkillers and I could take them before competitions and I could…” Sousuke’s words drift off into silence as he takes in the measured, sad smile of the doctor.

“I am so very sorry, Sousuke.” She pats his uninjured shoulder quietly, letting him know of the absence of all hope as kindly as possible.

Gathering his things, Sousuke makes his way out of the examination room, letting his feet take him where they will. His mind is too pre-occupied, and his heart feels like it will break any instant.

Even as his future crumbles to dust around his feet, he finds himself worrying more about his best friend Rin than himself.

But Rin has Nanase to swim with. Sousuke was always an afterthought anyway.

Sousuke has always been an afterthought in the lives of everyone he has ever known. His parents divorced when he was 5. He was brought up his mother, who worked two jobs to support them both. Sousuke was 8 when she found a new life with a new lover, and she returned Sousuke to his reluctant father, ready to move on.

Sousuke gets a card from her every Christmas and sometimes on his birthday. Once she even sent him some mochi on New Year’s. The Christmas card is a different picture of her new husband their 2 brand new children, every year.

His father didn’t keep him around long, and Sousuke was soon passed off to an aunt who lived by herself in a small town by the ocean. Where he met Rin and found something to live for.

The ocean called out to him from the moment he arrived in Iwatobi. Sousuke remembers sneaking out of his small room, leaving his meagre belongings still unpacked by the unused tatami, barefoot and breathless, following a narrow path leading down from the little house on the hill to the beach.

The sand between his toes, the sound of crashing waves, the moon hanging above him like a big yellow lantern- it was love at first sight.

The ocean was vast, infinite maybe. But its depths didn’t scare Sousuke at all. As he ran ahead, meeting the incoming tide with open arms, letting it carry him away, he felt that he was finally home.

Swimming at the community pool to pass the time in the dull life of a city too busy to acknowledge his existence had simply been a way to drown out the world of humans. Humans that didn’t give a damn about him.

The ocean was different. It was heartless and all-encompassing. It didn’t feel anything, and it offered no promise of affection. The lonely boy with eyes that shifted color to match the ocean’s had found this passivity welcoming. Sousuke often wondered what it would be like to sink right to the bottom of it, to witness the secrets it possessed firsthand.

But at the last minute, just before the urge to let go took over, he would break the surface and breathe the air again.

He met Rin at the ocean too. A laughing, red-haired boy who called out to Sousuke, complimented his swimming technique, his affinity with the water. Sousuke had lost everything to that sharp-toothed smile right away. Rin was the first real friend Sousuke made, and he his entire soul to that friendship. Only, Rin already had friends of his own. Sousuke was just one of many.

An afterthought.

And now, after finding out that the dream he had been chasing after since that first meeting with Rin, after all those endless conversations about going pro together, of swimming forever- after all of that is lost- Sousuke finds himself returning to the ocean.

To offer a goodbye, to let it know how things have gone wrong, once again.

By the time Sousuke finds a solitary, quiet spot on the beach, night has fallen.

The autumn chill is caresses his thin face, cheeks stinging with tears that won’t stop. There is no moon in the sky this time. Only the flickering lights of countless silvery stars.

Sousuke thinks about walking into the ocean, going for one last swim, letting the waves decide his fate.

And at that very moment, his gaze drawn out to the dark expanse of the moonless sky reflected in a quiet ocean, something breaks the surface of the dull waves, and shines for a moment.

Something green and gold, like a dream, like the fiery fragment of an impossible star fallen from the sky, like jade and gold and the reflection of sunlight caught up in a pure white crystal.

Sousuke stares, refusing to believe his eyes.

And before he can question his sanity, the vision fades, there is a distant sound of splashing, and the ocean feigns innocence at Sousuke, pretending nothing has happened. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing miraculous. Nothing at all.

That night Sousuke dreams of strange cities with gleaming minarets and marble arches painted with eerie arabesques, carved with the phases of the moon. A city of coral and pearl. A dream city. 

And a pair of the greenest eyes he has ever seen.

When he wakes up, even though his heart is utterly utterly broken inside his chest, Sousuke finds himself smiling. 


	2. Drowning in a Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sousuke tells his friends about his shoulder injury, and Rin proposes a boat trip out to the ocean to cheer him up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Makoto makes an appearance! This is still mostly introductory stuff. Thanks to everyone who commented on the first chapter and showed interest in this story.

_**"My life, -** _   
_**How much more of it remains?** _   
_**The night is brief."** _

**-Masaoka Shiki**

 

“What do you mean you can’t swim in the relay? I don’t understand Sou!” Rin is half-crying, half-shouting, as he grabs Sousuke by the shoulders and shakes him.

The grimace of pain that etches itself on Sousuke’s face doesn’t escape his best friend’s notice, and Rin immediately lets go, stepping back carefully, looking closely at the taller boy with lowered teal eyes.

“Sousuke...”

“I... I meant to tell you earlier. But I thought it’d be fine. I thought they could fix me, you know. And...” Sousuke fights back helpless tears from falling, because he knows it will only make Rin cry harder for him.

Sousuke has always been more comfortable dealing with his own pain by himself, playing the defender and the supporter to the few friends he’s made at Samezuka Academy since moving back to Iwatobi.

To think that his existence can possibly bring discomfort to the people he cares for is the most terrifying feeling in the world for him. He might like to reassure himself it’s because he doesn’t want anyone to cry because of him, to feel ill at ease because of his person, but that’s not really true.

Sousuke is afraid of being left behind. Afraid that if he shows weakness, if he cries, if he shows himself as being anything other than unshakably strong, then he will lose what he holds dear.

So he locks it up inside himself and puts on a smile for his friends.

And for everyone else, there’s the unappetizing mixture of his seething rage and casual indifference.

But it makes him feel safe. That no one knows how weak, how easily hurt his real self is. He thinks it’s his greatest strength, being able to hide so well.

And he’s not about to break that streak now.

Steeling himself, Sousuke explains everything in a quiet voice, using his good arm to pat Rin on the back as the red-haired boy cries a storm for the both of them.

“It’ll be okay, Rin. It’ll be fine.”

“But what about...All the things- _hic_ \- we said we’d- _sniffle_ -do together, Sou...”

“You’ll still get to do them Rin. And I’ll be there. By your side. Cheering you on. Like always.”

“L-like always?”

“Yup.”

When Rin finally smiles back at him, Sousuke thinks he can hear his own heart breaking in two neat, even pieces.

 

**********************

 

At night, on his own, after brushing his aunt’s concerns off with a comforting smile, Sousuke lets the tears fall into his pillow.  This weakness shames him, makes him hate himself a little more than usual. His shoulder aches as if it’s suddenly caught fire, and that just makes the crying worse.

Stifling a sob, Sousuke pulls on his dark blue hoodie and quietly lets himself out of the house.

All the way down to the beach.

It’s becoming a habit now, to go down and sit in the cooling sand after dark, watching the stars shiver and shimmer, reflected in the black mirror of the waveless ocean.

The new moon hides behind a few, fluttering clouds. Sousuke lets his guard drop and allows himself to feel all the anguish, all the desperation he’s been quietly storing up inside his overburdened mind.

 

_I wish things would go back to the way they were._

_I wish I could swim again. With Rin._

_I wish...I wish it didn’t hurt so much all the damn time._

_I wish I...I wish I wasn’t so alone...._

 

Like an answered prayer, the slight silver curve of the moon shines bright for an instant, its light too purely blinding, and in the distance something rises through the briny depths of the ocean, breaking the lulling motion of the gentle waves.

And shining like a cavalcade of golden coins, with sparks of green shot through, there is something right out of a fairy story, right in front of Sousuke.

It dazes and dazzles him, and for a second of incomprehensible passion, Sousuke wants to rush out into the depths of the ocean to make it his.

A miraculous world after all.

 

And that night, back on his tatami, falling asleep just before dawn, Sousuke dreams of the same marine city. And the same green eyes.

And this time, there is a smile. As dazzlingly golden-green as the vision in the ocean.

Sousuke reaches out for that smile, wanting to have it all to himself.

He wakes up in a cold sweat, his fingers stretched out in front of him, grasping at thin air, achingly empty.

The pain in his shoulder flares up and he screams in agony before he can stop himself. His aunt comes running in, her face pale with fear and love.

And for the first time since he’s come to live with her, Sousuke lets her hold him close, as he sobs his heart out on her shoulder.

 

**********************

 

“No Sousuke, I already said I will not take no for an answer.” Rin crosses his arm, sitting across the table from Sousuke, his tea and pastry untouched.

“Oh come on, Sousuke-san. You know Onii-chan will have his way in the end. So just give in already.” Gou shares a smile with Sousuke’s aunt, helping herself to another strawberry tart.

“If I say yes, will all of you leave me alone for an entire week? No more demands. No more unnecessary worrying. That is my condition. Take it or leave it.” Sousuke appreciates the concern and affection he is being shown, but at the same time he’d rather be left alone. All of this pitying attention feels stifling. 

“Yes. We promise!” Gou shouts on behalf of them all, clearly delighted.

“Okay then. This weekend. We’re all going out to sea, on dad’s old boat. I already asked Sasabe coach to help steer it.” Rin triumphantly eats up his entire pastry in one big gulp.

“Wait. What do you mean by all...” It’s one thing for Sousuke to spend a sort of quiet day with Rin and Gou, staring out at the waves, taking in the sun, hoping for another miraculous sight the ocean has shared with him twice already. But he has not signed up for dealing with the rest of them. Okay, maybe Aiichiro is fine. He’s quiet and sweet. And Nanase just sits in a corner glaring and eating saba all the time.

But the rest of them...

But it’s too late to back out now, and he knows it. So he lets out a deep sigh and resigns himself to Rin's sharp-toothed smile. 

 

**********************

 

And so it is that Sousuke finds himself walking down to the docks on Saturday morning, a backpack with a few essentials slung over his good shoulder, and a defeated look on his face.

20 minutes in the boat that’s clearly too small to accommodate all of them properly (and clearly looking as if it will sink to the bottom of the ocean under their collective weight despite Sasabe’s reassurances to the contrary), and it’s already too much.

Sousuke slinks off to the stern of the boat, hoping for some quiet, only to walk right into Rin making out with a very red-faced Aiichiro.

Swearing under his breath, making sure not to startle them, he walks around the side to look for a spot to sit down and be alone.

Everyone is caught up in conversation, their shared laughter ringing everywhere. Nagisa puts on some music on his portable radio and Momotaro starts telling stupid jokes in the loudest voice he can muster.

It should be nice right? Being surrounded by all his friends, being comforted by them.

But the truth is, Sousuke would rather be on his own.

Being on a boat and singing along to some cheerful pop tune won’t make his life any better, won’t return his dreams to him.

Sighing to himself, Sousuke stares into the waves along the side of the hull. Losing himself in a deep reverie, he starts thinking about the smiling face and green eyes from his dreams.

All of a sudden, he feels a desperate need to kiss that unknown face. Maybe it’s a reaction to having seen Rin sucking on his boyfriend’s tongue, but Sousuke knows it’s more than that.

 

The wave that tosses the boat to its side, almost toppling it over, comes out of nowhere.

Everyone clings to each other or the boat to anchor themselves.

Everyone but Sousuke, sitting alone with his own impossible thoughts.

He can hear Gou shouting his name from above, but the water’s embrace has already clouded his senses.

He should swim to the surface again, shouldn’t he?

He can manage to save himself even with an injured shoulder.

But he doesn’t really want to try.

This is good. Down here, where the green of the water sparkles gold in the sunlight, and everything is so very quiet.

This is a good place to die.

Sousuke’s eyes flicker shut as he smiles, gulping saltwater and losing air.

And then everything is dark.

 

**********************

 

“Hey you! Human boy! Are you okay?” The voice is soft and full of concern, sounding like music. Like a song Sousuke has known since he was a small child, playing with seashells by the ocean, building sandcastles with tall towers.

“Mmmm...I’m...Am I still alive?” Sousuke can hear the disappointment in his own voice at this realization.

“Wait, did you want to not be alive? Did you throw yourself in on purpose?” As his eyes flicker open, the first thing Sousuke takes in is a pair of very familiar, very green eyes looking at him, filled with such anxiety for his sake. For some strange reason, this makes him smile. 

“You...It’s you...I know you...” Without thinking, Sousuke reaches a hand out for the flushed face peering down at him.

“Ehhh! Watch it human! Don’t get so friendly all of a sudden!” The boy sounds more flustered than angry, and Sousuke continues smiling fondly, his hand still caressing the smooth cheek.

“Where am I anyway? How did you find me?” Sousuke tries to sit up, and feels sand underneath him. He’s been carried to the shore, though the waves are still lapping at his sneaker-less feet.

“You were drowning. And I found you. And I asked your heart if it wanted to live. And it said yes. And so I gave you a bit of my breath in exchange for a promise.” The boy’s face turns pinker at the gentle way Sousuke’s fingers keep caressing his face.

“What the hell are you talking about? Are you trying to tell me you had a conversation with my heart while I was passed out?” Sousuke stares at the boy, utterly baffled.

“Yes. And I granted your wish, didn’t I say? You’ll be able to swim again, Sousuke.” And there’s that smile. Like the sun reflected in the ocean. So bright, it blinds you.

“This is another dream, isn’t it? A dream before dying? Or whatever they call it...” Sousuke holds the boy’s face with both hands, drawing him close. If it’s already too late, if this is the end, then he will at least have his kiss.

And that’s when Sousuke realizes he is about to share his first kiss with what is clearly a mermaid...No a merman...Merperson? Whatever.

The bottom line is, the boy with the pretty green eyes and the sweetest smile Sousuke has ever seen, has a fishtail of bright shining golden scales where a pair of legs should be.

They are both on the beach, right where the sand meets the waves, the merboy's face in Sousuke's hands, as he stares at the impossible sight in front of him. 

“Hey! I already gave you one kiss! Don’t get greedy. Don’t try to hurt yourself again. And remember your promise, human.” And before Sousuke can understand what kind of dream this is exactly, and whether he is alive or dead or in limbo, the beautiful golden tail encrusted with sparkling green emeralds and smooth bits of jade, splashes around around in the shallow water and the green eyes swim away from Sousuke.

Sousuke’s final thought, before he hears the concerned call of someone walking towards him along the shore, is of the kiss he supposedly had but cannot remember.

He raises a reassuring hand to the man running towards him, cell phone out, clearly calling for medical assistance.

His shoulder should be killing him after this ordeal, but surprisingly, Sousuke feels no pain at all. Just a drowning sort of warmth draping his body up in its comforting embrace.

Sousuke smiles as he falls back onto the sand.

“You could have at least told me your name, Green Eyes.” 


	3. An Empty Parking Lot and an Overcrowded Bathtub

 

_**No blossoms and no moon,** _

_**and he is drinking sake** _

_**all alone**_

 

_**-Matsuo Basho** _

 

 

  
[   
](http://www.poemofquotes.com/)

“Just stop whining and fuck me already.”

Sousuke is leaning over the hood of Seijuro’s newly-acquired, second-hand, rather shitty car- pants around his ankles, ass sticking out, eyes scrunched up in frustrated lust.

His shoulder is killing him despite the painkillers, but he needs this.

Oh yeah, the pain came flooding back strangely enough, after a week-long reprieve. While the redness in his shoulder is gone, and the joint is no longer swollen, there is still a deep and lingering ache, threatening to drive him over the edge.

He had gone to the see his doctor again, and was surprised with the news that there was no longer anything physically wrong with his shoulder. His doctor looked as baffled by this as Sousuke, and told him that the pain must be psychosomatic. Because there was no reason for Sousuke to be suffering anymore.

But the universe isn’t so kind where Sousuke Yamazaki is concerned.

It’s out to get him.

Fucking up his body, letting him recover without any legitimate medical explanation, not taking away the pain despite being healed, tossing him off the boat into the ocean, giving him ridiculous hallucinations about beautiful green-eyed boys....

But the weird thing was that the pretty merman had been right. Sousuke's shoulder had in fact healed completely, if his doctor was to be believed.

Then why was he still hurting?

Nothing made sense anymore. With every passing day, Sousuke felt more and more detached from his life. With every passing minute, he felt as though his body was no longer his own.

Witnessing Rin’s tears in the hospital room, his eyes as red as his hair because of his useless best friend; watching his aunt sobbing alone, sitting at the dining table after dark, thinking he was already asleep- all this stuff just made Sousuke’s frustration even worse.

The strange way his body had healed, without getting rid of the pain, was just another way in which his life had decided to fuck him over.

 

The morbid thoughts clogging his brain, the guilt at causing hurt to the people who loved him- it was all too much.  Sousuke needed to feel something, anything at all. Something that would free him from his distracted mind, and return his body to him.

So he texted Seijuro, and as usual, Seijuro texted back.

Even though Sousuke is fully aware that Seijuro is caught up in a one-sided love for Rin’s sister, he cannot give a fuck about the emotional turmoil this is probably going to cause them all in the long run.

And by 11 pm, with a six-pack of lukewarm beer shoplifted by Sousuke, and Seijuro’s stale cigarettes, the two boys find themselves in an empty parking lot at the edge of town, trying not to look at each other.

They had first started this skewed, purely physical relationship when Sousuke walked in on his ex-captain masturbating in the shower after swimming practice.Sousuke always knew he liked men, and he was not one for forming lasting relationships. When Seijuro kept stroking himself despite knowing Sousuke was standing next to him, the signal was pretty clear. 

Sousuke had sucked Seijuro off in the shower, and it escalated from there. No one else knew about them, and no one ever would.

That had been two years ago. A year before Seijuro graduated from high school and started attending a local university. 

They still saw each other like this, momentarily, to feed their mutual desire. 

No one knew about Sousuke being gay. Except for other equally secretive boys he formed fleeting relationships with. His first experience had been at 14, with a senpai who had kind eyes and a quietly sad smile. They both jerked each other off a few times in Sousuke’s room. After a few months, the senpai got himself a girlfriend, stopped smiling sadly, and pretended he didn’t know who Sousuke was. And that was the end of Sousuke’s first love, and his last. Or so he liked to tell himself.

But that didn’t stop Sousuke from looking. He seemed to have a gift for spotting damaged people with broken hearts, and his relationships always ended quickly. Though Sousuke was never the one who did the breaking up. But he told himself that he didn’t want commitment anyway.

And as the years went by, he got really good at ignoring the hurt, pretending it didn’t kill him just a little bit, every time he got left behind.

 

Seijuro would leave him too. Sooner or later.

 

“Hurry up already. Get this over with.” Sousuke grunts, trying to hold back the moan building up inside his throat. Using his good hand to tug at his erection, Sousuke ignores the twinging ache emanating from his shoulder, engulfing his entire body, eager to lose himself in momentary pleasure.

“Jeez, calm the fuck down Sou. You’re making it impossible for me to get hard with all this nagging.” Seijurou grunts in desperation, trying to get his cock to stand up.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, you useless piece of ginger trash.” His own erection throbbing painfully, Sousuke gets down on his knees before the taller boy and takes his hardness in his mouth. A minute of bobbing his head back and forth, tongue flicking against the Seijuro’s growing erection, and Sousuke knows it’s ready to go in.

Seijuro groans in a low, hoarse voice as he enters Sousuke, and begins moving immediately.

The pain is greater than the pleasure, but once Sousuke starts stroking himself again, his mind enters the state of hazy unfocused listlessness he has been craving these last few days.

The moment of climax is off for Sousuke. Seijuro has already extracted himself from the sweaty jumble of their bodies, and wiped his cum on a paper napkin, when Sousuke finally cums all over his own hand.

“Fuck lot of good you are.” He hisses angrily at Seijuro for having failed him.

“How the hell is it my fault? You always cum from my cock before.”

“Ugh. Think of Gou next time while you fuck my anus, and maybe you’ll actually be able to get it up by yourself.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, Sousuke knows he’s gone too far.

The sound of hand against cheek resounds in the night air.

Without a word, Seijuro gets back into his car and drives off, leaving Sousuke alone in the dark with a burning cheek, and eyes dimming in silent apology.

It always ends like this anyway.

 

Part of him wants to run after the car, stumbling, bruising his knees. He wants to tell Seijuro to forget the girl who only has eyes for his younger brother and take Sousuke instead. That he’ll do whatever Seijuro needs him to do, be whoever Seijuro wants him to be.

Pathetically, feeling so very sorry for himself, Sousuke sits down on the cooling concrete of the parking lot, and lights up one of the cigarettes Seijuro has left behind.

The beer is almost gone, and Sousuke already has a pounding headache.

He could spend the entire night here, sitting under the stars, listening to the distant sound of the ocean, thinking about nothing at all.

But then there is a stab of pain in his shoulder which makes him wince uncomfortably. He gets up reluctantly, putting out his last cigarette.

Walking back, sneaking in through the open window of his room, Sousuke falls on the tatami, face down, groaning.

He smells like smoke and alcohol and sweat and cum.

A bath would be nice. Warm and comforting. Maybe it’ll even help with the pain in his shoulder.

Pulling off his shirt, Sousuke grabs a towel and heads quietly to the washroom.

He closes the door and turns on the tap, filling the tub with steaming hot water. As hot as he can stand it without burning his skin raw.

Leaning over the sink to brush his teeth, Sousuke suddenly jumps back, staring at his own reflection, startled and confused.

On his shoulder, at the exact place where it was injured, there is a mark. Like an hieroglyph in a forgotten language, older than the pyramids. Upon closer examination, Sousuke notices that the mark is in what looks like very deep green ink- so deep it’s almost back. But it glistens against his tanned skin, as if it’s shot through with golden light.

Sun reflected in the ocean.

Sousuke climbs into the bathtub with a washcloth, scrubbing hard at the strange, tattoo-like inscription on his skin. He rubs his skin raw and red, ignoring the currents of pain that continue to ravage him. But it won’t come off.

 

“Why are you trying to rub it off?”

The voice is soft and soothing, like the sound of waves breaking upon the shore at night.

Sousuke almost pisses himself when he hears it.

Not daring to believe his own senses, he looks up slowly, away from the mark on his shoulder.

A pair of languid green eyes is staring at him curiously.

The merman, the one who rescued Sousuke, is sitting across from him in the bathtub.

But he isn’t exactly a merman anymore. Those are definitely legs Sousuke sees under the slightly rippling surface of the water.

Legs and a cock.

Very nice, very long, very toned legs. And a very nice cock, rather big too. Despite the impossibility of his circumstances, Sousuke finds himself thinking that this particular cock would make him cum quite hard. 

 

“That’s not really polite. Staring like that.” The boy is smiling knowingly when Sousuke looks back to meet his steady gaze.

“Errrr. Am I- you know- dreaming? Are you a hallucination? I mean I did drink all the beer and maybe it wasn't the best idea to get into a hot bath right after...” Sousuke gapes at the boy, stunned by how beautiful he is.

“Nope. I am quite real. And you’re not very nice, are you? It’s rather insulting to be told you’re a hallucination, don’t you think?”

“Errr...Sorry?”

“That’s better, Yamazaki-kun. Wait, that’s too formal for our current situation, isn’t it? How about Sou-kun? Yes, I like that. That is what I shall call you.” The boy smiles as if the sun shines in the sky for him alone, as if there is nothing on the earth or under the sea that can ever make him grieve.

“Listen, not to be rude or anything, but I kind of think I’m going crazy. And I don’t know who you are. And how you’re here. And why you’re naked. And what you want from me.” Sousuke tries to calm the panic rising in his chest. He must have fallen asleep in the tub. This is dream. It has to be a dream.

“Oh, right. I never did introduce myself, did  I? I’m Makoto. Makoto Tachibana. I’m a merperson. And I hail from the Kingdom of...No, I can’t tell you that just yet. Anyway, I cured you didn’t I? Don’t you remember? I saved your life.”

“I remember you. But I thought...I thought you were a dream...How can someone like you be real? Someone so...beautiful?” The words are out of Sousuke’s mouth before he can think them through.

To his surprise, Makoto blushes furiously, clearly unable to handle the compliment.

“Oh, well. I’m okay-looking, you know. I mean...Beautiful. That’s just... You’re very beautiful too, you know...”

And now it’s Sousuke’s turn to blush.

 

Despite the unreality of the situation, something about it feels awkwardly right.

It has a strange, sweet taste to it. A first meeting with a crush. A high school confession that turns out to be pleasantly mutual.

They both sit there, in the tub, completely naked, completely exposed to each other, blushing at the words that have passed between them.

 

And then Sousuke’s aunt is knocking on the door, sounding worried.

“I heard you talking to someone, Sou. Are you okay? Who’s in there with you?”

“Uh..Ohh...No one, it’s just me...”

“Are you sure?”

Gesturing desperately at Makoto to stay quiet, Sousuke stares horrified as the green-eyed boy gets out of the tub, and opens the bathroom door, standing in front of Sousuke’s horrified aunt in all his naked glory.

“Hello, I’m Makoto. I’m Sou-kun’s friend. I will be staying here for a while. Thank you for having me.”

At that moment, Sousuke realizes that Makoto is not a hallucination at all.

At that moment, when he should be overwhelmed with notions of impossible things, something like a tiny, smoldering flame of hope lights itself up in Sousuke's heart.

Lighthearted, feeling giddily happy that he is not going crazy at all- because his aunt can definitely, most assuredly see Makoto too-Sousuke laughs out loud. When Makoto turns around to give him the prettiest smile he has ever seen- eyes closed and head tilted a bit to the side- Sousuke feels himself go numb all over.

The pain in his shoulder disappears instantly.

It’s his heart that is aching now.


	4. An Awkward Sleepover

**_“And, sad, I fall asleep to see_**  
 _ **My dreams that run above…**_  
 _ **I’m sure not whether I love thee —**_  
 _ **But, maybe, I’m in love.”**_

**\- Aleksandr Pushkin**

 

 

 

“So umm...Makoto? Who are you exactly...I mean...” Leiko Yamazaki gives up trying to make sense of her nephew’s guest, and raises her eyebrows at Sousuke, silently asking him for an explanation.

Makoto is sitting at the small dining table, wearing one of Sousuke’s oversized t-shirts, fidgeting around in his seat as though he is not at all comfortable with the clothes.

“Uhhh...I met him on the beach, like a few months ago? We hang out sometimes. I guess he...decided to visit? On a whim? Without telling me about it?” Sousuke cannot really lie to his aunt, so he tries his best to piece together a narrative about Makoto that will sound believable without being untrue.

“I...see...” Leiko’s eyes widen in shock as Makoto stands up, bends down a little, and remove the boxers Sousuke has given him to wear. He folds them up carefully, and presents them to Sousuke with a little bow, as if bestowing a most precious gift upon the teal-eyed boy.

“Errrr...” Sousuke finds himself accepting the underwear- his underwear that has now been worn by this beautiful, impossible creature standing in front of him, probably carrying the green-eyed boy’s scent now and his...

Sousuke blushes furiously as he tries his best to sink into the floor.

“Well, Makoto. You’re certainly very, ummm, interesting. You’re welcome to stay here for...” Leiko averts her eyes before completing the sentence, as Makoto shrugs out of the t-shirt, completely naked once again.

“Ahhh that’s better. Sorry those things were riding up and I don’t like anything around my neck that’s too tight.” Makoto grins happily at them both, sitting down again.

“Sousuke...Can we talk please?” Leiko motions her nephew to follow her to the kitchen, leaving Makoto at the table, busy playing with a fork.

“I can explain...I think...” Sousuke is really at a loss for words. How is he supposed to tell her that Makoto is actually a merperson who saved his life, and has now turned into a human boy and somehow appeared in his bathtub, talking about promises and healed shoulders?

“So? Is he your boyfriend? What happened to the tall ginger dude?” Leiko crosses her arms, and smirks at Sousuke.

“Wait...How do you...?” He gapes at her, marveling at what has to be her psychic ability to always know what he thinks are his best kept secrets.

“Please, what kind of a guardian would I be if I didn’t at least know that much? He seems into you, though he is...weird...”

“Weird...Yeah, you got that right.”

“So are you going to keep him, Sou?”

“Keep him? He’s not a pet, Leiko-san.”

“He has such cute puppy eyes and doesn’t wear clothes around the house. I’d say he’s pretty close to being a pet.”

“Well, if you put it that way...”

“But he makes you happy, doesn’t he?”

“Huh?”

“Well, you’ve been smiling constantly since he showed up. You sure he’s not your new boyfriend?”

“Well. He could be. Would that bother you?”

“Not at all. In fact, I’d prefer to know your boyfriend in person, rather than have you sneaking around behind my back.

Leiko smacks the top of Sousuke’s head, or at least tries to, and ends up getting his ear even though she stand on her tiptoes to reach up at him. He laughs at her grumpy groan, and realizes that she’s right. Being around Makoto has made him feel light-hearted.

Not to mention the ache in his shoulder disappeared the moment he looked into Makoto’s eyes.

 

But the joy is underscored by an uncertain premonition.

Something about this whole episode in his life seems highly improbable.

He remembers his mother reading him stories about magical places in the the clouds, in the hearts of mountains, deep under the ground beneath his feet, and in the blue depths of the ocean. All places of wonder and awe, where young boys and girls went seeking adventures, making new friends along the way, coming back home happy and victorious.

And Sousuke always found the tales so hard to accept, to believe.They were for children who would buy anything to make themselves feel better about the grim realities of life.

He wonders how many little children go to sleep every night wanting their lives to turn into fair stories.

 Sousuke never once tried to use his imagination to run away from his shouting parents, who pushed him farther and farther away each year. He let himself hear the harsh words, and he let his heart grow hard. How else would he have survived?

Stories were a way to escape, and Sousuke had always known that escape was a morbid delusion feeding the hearts of  weak-minded people.

Now it looks like the universe has found one more way to mock him. It’s decided to take a non-believer like Sousuke and shove him head-first into an abundance of reality-defying faith. And he has no idea how to deal with being inside the same sort of story he has hated his entire life.

 

Leiko bids them both goodnight after a while, after appreciatively eyeing the naked Makoto munching greedily on dried seaweed snacks, and winking at Sousuke.

“Listen, you really do need to put some clothes on.” Sousuke tries one more time to get Makoto dressed. Which sounds like a really stupid thing to do, because Makoto is so very attractive. Almost as tall as Sousuke, and really well built. But Makoto’s muscles are graceful and his waist is slender, where Sousuke is way bulkier and sturdier.

He wonders what their bodies will look like next to each other, and his imagination does not disappoint.

Maybe it won't be so bad if Makoto refuses to wear any clothes around the house.

“Well, if you want me to put something on, it had better be nice and loose. Especially around the bottom bits. I like to feel the air when I’m on the surface you know.” Makoto pouts at him, enthusiastically opening another packet of snacks and gulping them down like a giant orca swallowing up entire schoals of small fish in one go.

“Errr right. Okay I guess you can wear my yukata. I only wore it for the summer festival anyway. I don’t like it that much, so you can keep it if you like it.”

 

It turns out that Makoto does like the deep blue yukata still imbued a little with Sousuke’s scent. He puts it on and twirls around in front of the mirror in Sousuke's room, laughing happily.

Sousuke lays out an extra tatami next to his, and waits for Makoto to settle down.

Now that the excitement has worn off, the alcoholic daze and the day’s anxious tiredness is ready to take its toll on Sousuke.

Makoto sits down next to him, legs crossed, and crotch slightly exposed.

Sousuke finds himself staring, too sleepy to avert his gaze or pretend that he isn’t interested in what’s between Makoto’s legs.

The brunet chuckles softly. 

“Wanna do it with me?”

Makoto’s question startles Sousuke with its honesty.

“Errr. Do what?”

Sousuke knows there are so many things he needs to ask this boy first. About the healed shoulder, the weirdly fluctuating pain, the weird markings on his skin. About how and why this is happening. And most importantly, why has Sousuke been chosen when Nanase or Rin or anyone really would have been a better option?

But as Makoto shrugs the yukata off, and tugs at Sousuke’s shorts, the doubts and worries give way to the anticipation of pleasure.

“I don’t really know how to do this, so you’ll have to do all the work, Sou-kun.”

Sousuke obliges, his shorts pulled half-off to expose his butt, as he moves closer to Makoto and leans over, taking the head of the brunet’s cock into his mouth.

No cock Sousuke’s sucked before has tasted this good, like ocean water and honey.

He lets his tongue play with the slit, feeling Makoto’s legs squirming underneath his chest. He slurps the precum down, listening to the soft sighs emanating from Makoto’s throat.

He takes the cock deep into his mouth then, wanting to drink Makoto’s cum. But there is a deeper need building up inside him.

Sousuke sits up and pulls off his shorts and t-shirt. He sticks a couple of fingers inside Makoto’s mouth, asking him to suck.

Makoto’s eyes are half-closed, his cheeks flushed pink. He sucks diligently on Sousuke’s fingers, reciprocating the movements Sousuke’s tongue has used to pleasure his cock.

Pulling the wet fingers out of Makoto’s mouth, Sousuke slides them into his entrance, stretching it open, but not too wide. He wants to feel the cock in front of him. Makoto’s wet and twitching cock, bigger than his own. Sousuke moves inside himself, with one fist stuffed in his mouth to stop the moans threatening to escape and wake up his aunt.

“Ok, are you ready?” He pants his way over to Makoto, who is observing Sousuke through heavy-lidded green eyes.

“Ready for...?” 

“For doing it?” Sousuke is dying to get on top of Makoto and ride the brunet until they’re both spent.

“Oh. Like. Putting it in? I...Do you want me to or are you going to?” Makoto is blushing, very confused.

“Is this going to be your first time with another...?”

“Well. Yes. I mean. I don’t regularly just swim up to the surface and go around looking for butts to put my thing inside.”

And they both start giggling, looking at each other a little shyly. Sousuke feels a little ashamed about moving so fast, wanting to mount himself on Makoto's cock first thing like an animal in heat.

“Errr, there are other ways you know, if you wanna...like start slow and stuff?” He glances carefully at Makoto, who is now curiously feeling his own hardness, letting out little agitated gasps at each stroke.

“Unnnhhhhh...What do I do now?” Makoto reaches out  his free hand for Sousuke.

“Here, let me do it.” Sousuke moves up to Makoto, spreading the brunet’s legs farther apart, easing his way close and closer, throwing his own legs over Makoto’s thighs in an attempt to bring their cocks together.

When Makoto lets out a high-pitched moan at the contact between them, Sousuke roughly grabs his hair and pulls him in for a kiss.

“Touch mine, Makoto. Do what I’m doing.” Sousuke is grateful for the full use of both his arms at this point. One hand is tangled in Makoto’s hair-keeping their lips close together, losing the sounds of their pleasure in each others’ mouths- and the other busy with Makoto’s hardness.  

Makoto begins to reciprocate Sousuke’s jerking motions and both of them lose all sense of time and reality, cumming all over each others' hands a bit awkwradly.

Sousuke helps Makoto clean up and doesn’t complain when Makoto lays down to sleep naked.

Somehow, they end up on the same tatami, with Sousuke’s back to Makoto, and Makoto’s arms around him.

Before he drifts away to sleep, Sousuke thinks he feels the sensation of Makoto’s lips on his injured shoulder.

He dreams of water that night- dark and lightless. An abyss opening up under the bottom of the ocean. It looks as though it has jaws that want to chew Sousuke up. Sousuke struggles and tries to swim away, but he cannot. His arms are bound behind him, and a sharp pain in his shoulder makes him wake up, sweaty and scared.

Makoto’s arms are no longer around him. The brunet has thrown off his blanket and is sprawled on his back, arms thrown above his head. Sousuke covers up Makoto before curling up underneath the same blanket, and rests his head against Makoto’s chest, falling asleep to the sound of his beating heart- the sound of the ocean caught up inside a conch.

He doesn’t remember the last bit of his nightmare- a pair of tearful green eyes watching him disappear into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to update this one. This story is a bit harder for me to put together, and I'm sure it will evolve into something concrete soon, though I can't guarantee what it will turn out to be.


	5. The Witch and her Ningyo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ningyo are the closest thing to merfolk in Japanese folklore that I've come across. They're very different from mermaids etc in European folklore. They're more like fish than humans, but I've modified the mythology a little to suit this fic's purposes. The story is starting to take a slightly supernatural turn, and I have something of a plot to work with now.

_**Oh roses for the flush of youth,** _

_**And laurel for the perfect prime;** _

_**But pluck an ivy branch for me** _

_**Grown old before my time.** _

**\- Christina Rossetti**

 

 

_There is an old tale, that drifted in centuries ago with small sea creatures and empty shells, with the incoming waves, and lingered on the shore. A fisherman’s young daughter in the bloom of her life became enamoured of her own youthfulness. She feared the cruelty of passing time, and cast spells in the witching hours of the night to save herself from it- seeking never to grow older than her seventeen summers. The answer came to her in a bone-white dream, drifting in with the sickening yellow light of a low-hanging gibbous moon._

_She sought and wooed a ningyo maiden, as lovely as herself. Her hair flowing amber, with bits of coral weaved in. Love twisted in like poisoned wine, tying the witch to the ningyo, binding them eternally._

_Betrayal fell like doom upon them both, and the witch cried as she drank her seamaiden’s blood, to water the roses in her cheeks._

_The ningyo's curse seeped into the witch's broken heart as the years went by. Her hair turned white with grief instead of age. Her skin shrivelled and yellowed like the pages of an old book, and her bones whistled hollow with the sea-blown breeze, as she wandered by the edge of the ocean, night after night, seeking redemption._

_In some versions of the tale, the witch still walks the shores by night, criying for her lover, seeking her soul among the stars. But ningyo don’t have souls. They dissipate into vapour and the nothingness of death. And t_ _he witch searches for small, impressionable human children wandering the shores by night. To burn their bones and wring them free of their blood. So she can bring her amber-haired ningyo back to life._

 

Sousuke Yamazaki, growing up in an indifferent house, with no one to tell him proper stories before bed, does not know of the dangers that lurk by the ocean after the sun has set.

If he knew, he would have been more careful.

If he knew, he wouldn’t have given his heart away so easily.

 

**************

 

“Guys, this is Makoto. We used to be ummm friends before. When I lived with my mom. He’s visiting for a bit. Please take care of him.” Sousuke looks around the café table at Rin, Nitori, and Momo, hoping for the best.

And it’s also really helpful that Makoto’s smile has the power to knock out any human being with its blinding brightness.

But a smile can only go so far. 

Still wearing Sousuke’s old yukata, still refusing to put on a pair of boxers, Makoto sits at the table curiously staring around the café, as though he’s never seen one before.

Which, of course, he hasn’t.

He is acting like the caricature of a tourist and drawing pointed stares from other customers, including Sousuke’s friends.

Nitori has good-heartedly volunteered to help Makoto figure out and the menu, and if his strained smile is any indication, he is thoroughly regretting his offer.

When Makoto declares that he pretty much wants to try out every sweet item on the menu, along with 4 different kinds of tea, Sousuke feels his heart stop.

“Hey, hey. I can’t afford all that, okay. I don’t even have a part time job or anything. I get by on a very meager allowance. So unless you can pay for yourself, you’re getting one kind of tea and one pastry. Choose wisely.” Sousuke gets a little flustered when he sees the look of disappointment in Makoto’s eyes. A small dark compartment of his brain briefly considers the pros of robbing banks.

“Can you get a part time job then? So we can buy all the pastries?” Makoto’s face lights up expectantly.

Rin snorts audibly, Momo looks perplexed and Nitori stares at the menu pretending not to listen.

“Errrr. I guess?” Sousuke blushes as red as the setting sun looming over the horizon.

“You’re such a lost cause, man.” Rin claps Sousuke on the shoulder, continuing to laugh.

“Ummm. How about this Makoto? You can order this sakura tea, it’s my favorite. And a chocolate tart. I think you’ll like it.” Nitori manages to save Sousuke from the utter humiliation of suddenly agreeing to get a job, so he can buy a green-eyed pretty boy sweet foods.

Sousuke’s friends kindly overlook Makoto’s strangeness, and take him in like one of their own. Laughing and talking about nothing in particular, enjoying their food and drinks.

Makoto is in awe of the chocolate tart, and insists on Sousuke trying it too. By making Sousuke lick the icing on his finger. Sousuke carefully sucks on the tip, going red again at the suggestive nudge from Rin, Nitori’s blushing cheeks, and Momo dropping his soda all over himself.

When Makoto licks the same finger, wiping it clean of icing and Sousuke’s saliva, the teal-eyed boy feels a bulge forming in his pants.

 

Walking home with a little difficulty, his satchel artfully hiding his crotch, Sousuke tries to reach for Makoto’s hand. Unthinkingly.

But the brunet avoids his grasping fingers, crossing his arms against his chest, pretending to feel cold, making small talk about chocolate tarts and Sousuke's friends.

Sousuke squeezes his fist tightly shut, and tries not to let his disappointment show on his face.

Always this expectation of intimacy, with anyone who gives him the time of day. And always the cold dejection of disappointment when it turns out to have been a whim. Sousuke seems to send out a certain vibe to people, and he hates himself for it- _fuck me, use me up, leave me behind when something better comes up._

They walk under the darkening sky with its silvery clusters of stars- together, apart. Sousuke interlocks his fingers behind his head, closing his eyes and breathing in the briny air. Makoto hums to himself, looking at the waves coming in- the music reminding Sousuke of something familiar but unknown at the same time.

 

A minutes later, instead of going back to Sousuke's room, they find themselves sitting on the beach, side by side, not touching at all.

Makoto fills his palms with sand, watching the glinting grains slip through his fingers.

“Has anyone ever told you stories about us?” Makoto’s voice is barely audible above the song of the ocean.

“Who’s us?” Sousuke’s drops onto his back, hands resting against his navel, looking up.

“You know. Creatures like me. Ocean-dwellers. Ningyo. Merfolk.”

“Nah. I don’t know much about that. Unless you got crabs down there that sing stupid songs.”

Makoto laughs, shaking his head.

“No we don’t have singing crabs, sorry.”

“Then no. I haven’t heard any stories.”

Makoto leans over him then, and places a chaste kiss on Sousuke's lips, smiling, not meeting his eyes.

“That’s good I guess.”

“Stories are full of shit anyway, Makoto. They make promises the world can’t keep.”

“You’re not the most positive person, are you?”

“Rin says that too. But I’m just realistic. That’s all.”

“How’s your shoulder now?”

“Fine. I mean. It hasn’t hurt since you showed up.”

“Hmmm. Good.”

“Are you ever going to explain this whole thing to me? Or am I just supposed to accept this...miraculous recovery or whatever? Do I owe you anything in return?”

“Nothing in life’s free, Sousuke. It’s an exchange. I mentioned that already, I think.”

“So what do you want in return, then, mermaid boy?”

“It’s merperson. But you can just call me Makoto.”

 

The silence between them is heavy, still, stifling.

 

“Just let me stay with you for a while, and live this life. Above ground. That’s all I’m asking for, Sousuke.”

“That’s fine with me.”

“Let’s go back Sousuke.”

“Okay.”

 

This time, Makoto takes Sousuke's hand, clasping it firmly, almost painfully.

Under the comforting sound of crashing waves and Makoto’s whispery singing, Sousuke thinks he can hear something else.

Something guttural, ancient, and not very friendly.

Despite the sudden terror that takes over his heart, he glances back at the shore.

 

Her eyes are like burning coals, her hair a deep green. She looks right at him and smiles a night-black smile.In her eyes there are tears.

She stand in the same place where Makoto leaned over to kiss Sousuke, watching a small fire burn. A pyre of fiery driftwood, white as bones.

 

The minute Sousuke turns away from the vision, horrified, awe-struck, he can no longer remember why his heart is pounding so hard.

Because no one ever told Sousuke Yamazaki any stories.

About witches or mermaids or betrayal or love or anything else that really matters.


	6. Chocolate Eclairs and Ex-Boyfriends

_**“And, sad, I fall asleep to see**_  
_**My dreams that run above…**_  
_**I’m sure not whether I love thee —**_  
_**But, maybe, I’m in love.”**_

 

 

 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                          

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  _ **— Aleksandr Pushkin**_

 

“So um...Where are you from again, Mako-chan?” Nagisa’s initial curiosity about a new addition to the gang quickly turns into confused amusement at the green-eyed boy’s fascination with basic things. Like trains.

“The country-something. Like Sousuke said. But we have to talk more about the train! It moves on these wheels and it’s so fast! Like whoosh! If Sousuke wasn’t holding me, I’d have fallen down every time it stopped!” There is a certain timid joy in Makoto’s measured gestures as he explains his first train ride to the baffled boys from Iwatobi.

Sousuke smiles quietly to himself thinking about the same train ride. Makoto had almost tripped and planted himself face down on the train’s floor as soon as it started off with a jerking motion. But Sousuke had extended an arm just in time to break his fall. After that, Makoto had spent his time gazing out the window, blocking the door of the crowded train, with Sousuke’s arm firmly wrapped around his waist.

Rin had winked at Sousuke several times during the journey, and Sousuke had the decency to avert his eyes and blush a little, though his heart was dancing around in his chest, thrusting its hips triumphantly to a thudding, bass-heavy beat.

Given the lack of physical intimacy between them after that first night, Sousuke cherishes every opportunity to get close to Makoto. _Like a desperate, needy loser._ He slaps himself internally at this self-hatred, and admiringly observes Makoto sipping tea from a little pink china cup.

 

 “How come you’ve never been on a train before?” Rei adjusts his glasses and peers at Makoto carefully, as though examining a member of a long-dead species suddenly called back into existence.

“He-uhh...He’s from the countryside, like I said. He’s never traveled before.” Sousuke scratches his head awkwardly, trying not to meet Rei’s eyes.

“So how did he get from the countryside to here?” Haru narrows his eyes as he continues observing Makoto almost as intensely as Sousuke.

“Errr...He’s like, really sheltered and stuff. His parents drove him here. Isn’t that right, Makoto?” Sousuke looks over at the brunet, hoping for some quiet understanding to spring up between them.

“Oh...Sure, sure. Yes I was driven here. By my parents. Who sheltered me. In the countryside. Yes, that’s it I think.” Makoto beams at everyone around the table before picking up a cream-filled éclair and swallowing it whole.

“Woah...” Rin ogles admiringly, while Rei almost spits his coffee on an awestruck Nagisa.

“Shut up, pervert.” Sousuke glares menacingly at his best friend, and quietly places his own uneaten strawberry tart on Makoto’s now-empty plate.

“So how long will you be staying here, Mako-chan?” Nagisa tries to steer the conversation back to normal, if it was ever that, suppressing a snicker at the way Makoto grabs a hold of Sousuke’s hand and licks some strawberry cream off his index finger. Sousuke suddenly feels as though his pants are too tight around the crotch area, and refuses to meet anyone's eyes. 

“Oh. A while at least. I hope longer. It depends on...Stuff. I wish this place wasn’t so close to the ocean though.” Makoto frowns at the distant sparkle of water, over which the sun is setting languidly.

“You don’t like the ocean?” If Haru was a cat, Sousuke swears his hair would be bristling right now.

“Oh. It’s not that I don’t like it. It’s hard to explain. I think I love it in some way. But it’s...It holds so much inside it. And not all of it is friendly.” Makoto’s face changes as he speaks, reflecting a strange mix of nostalgia and dread.

Haru keeps his intense blue eyes fixed on the brunet for a few minutes, before smiling just a little. A rare feat for the usually quiet, sullen boy. 

“I understand, Makoto.”

Both boys look at each other across the table, as though telepathically relaying some assertion of sudden kinship that cannot be uttered in the presence of others.

Sousuke suddenly finds himself full of an inexplicable rage. He feels like picking Haru up and tossing him into the ocean. 

As he possessively tucks a stray lock of Makoto’s hair behind his ear, a very familiar laugh draws his attention.

Before he can possibly think of a reason to escape, Gou and Seijuro are standing before him. Holding hands and smiling brightly.

“Hey! Fancy seeing you all here!”  Gou graciously smiles at the faces around the table, like a benevolent goddess in all her glory.

“Ummm. What’s going on here?” Rin wags a finger at the couple, and Seijuro’s cheeks take on the same color as his hair.

“Well, your ex-captain finally got his act together and asked me out. So we’re on a date. And I’m not answering any other embarrassing questions right now, Nii-san, so stop fidgeting.”  Gou pouts at her brother, letting him know that she gets the final say in this matter.

Sousuke determinedly avoids Seijuro's eyes.

_It’s definitely better this way. No one has to know what went on between the two of them. It won’t do anyone any good now._

Sousuke reaches for Makoto’s hand under the table and squeezes it a little too hard.

Makoto doesn’t seem to notice, busily eyeing Haru’s leftover cheesecake, until the quiet blue-eyed boy pushes his plate over, and lets Makoto finish his dessert.

Gou and Seijuro politely decline Nagisa’s offer to join the rest, and walk off to a private table close to a window overlooking the ocean.

Just for an instance, Seijuro looks over his shoulder and catches Sousuke’s eye. They exchange a half-hearted smile, silently agreeing never to see each other again, never to speak of what used to be.

It shouldn’t hurt as much as it should.

But it does anyway.

 

It doesn’t help that Makoto exchanges numbers with Haru before they leave. Meaning Makoto gives Haru Sousuke's home number (which Sousuke made him memorize for emergencies), while happily taking Haru's scribbled on a napkin.

 

Back in his bedroom, waiting for Makoto to finish taking a bath, Sousuke can’t help but think about the times he did it with Seijuro. It was never supposed to mean anything, but it was still something they both took comfort in. It still meant something. At least to Sousuke. 

His left hand wanders down, inside his pants, and he grips his cock in his fist, pumping it slowly, caressingly. He slides his thumb over the slit, teasing himself, thinking of Seijuro.

But it doesn’t work.

The desire that courses through his body now is for someone else.

_Sparkling green eyes and soft waves of unruly brown hair._

He finds himself uttering a deep-throated moan and continues touching himself. taking his time. He wants to feel every spasm of his muscles, every tingle of every nerve, as he approaches climax.

 

“Is that fun? Doing that by yourself?”

As he opens his eyes, Makoto is looming over him, droplets of cooling bath water falling down wet strands of his hair onto Sousuke’s chest.

He’s naked, his body still damp from the bath.

“Wanna join me?”

Sousuke doesn’t look away from Makoto as he sucks on a couple of fingers and inserts them inside himself. He clenches his mouth shut, biting on his lower lip to stop the wolfish howls threatening to escape his throat. His body trembles and his hips twist around on the tatami as he continues moving his fingers inside himself.

Makoto lifts himself and moves on top of Sousuke, joining their bodies together, moving his cock aggressively against Sousuke's hardness.

But that isn’t enough for Sousuke. He wants to assure himself of Makoto’s presence, of their intimacy.

With a swift, blunt movement- all muscle and force- Sousuke is on top of Makoto. As he lowers himself onto Makoto’s erection, Sousuke can’t hold back the gasp of longing building inside him.

Makoto’s cheeks redden and he closes his eyes, giving in to the onslaught of ecstasy, teasing Sousuke’s cock with one hand, and his left nipple with the other, as the taller boy rides him relentlessly.

Sousuke leans his arms back, supporting his weight against the floor, as he moves his hips up and down, his entrance clenched tightly around Makoto’s cock. He flings his head back, savoring the sweet pain spreading through his body, closing his eyes against its rushing heat.

It’s foolish and stupid, and it makes him careless- being with Makoto like this.

He lifts himself off Makoto’s cock just before the brunet cums inside him, and brings them both to completion using his hands.

White hot cum stains Makoto’s stomach, swirling across the taut muscles in deranged patterns of their combined desire.

Sousuke licks it clean, getting both of them hard again by the end of it.

They lay side by side, shoulder touching, pleasuring themselves with their hands.

Exhausted, they fall asleep next to each other without cleaning up properly- sticky and sweaty.

Before Sousuke drifts off, he thinks of Seijuro holding Gou’s hand, and smiles.

 

_The dream is a little longer this time around. In the abyss under the ocean, a pair of red eyes glow menacingly, reflected in the depths of the water. A singing voice whispers Sousuke's name somewhere above the waves closing in on him, filling up his lungs with black, icy death. Green-eyes and a beautiful face contorted in pain. A hand reaching out for him. Or is it letting go?_

 

When he wakes up, Sousuke’s head is resting against Makoto’s chest. His eyelids feel swollen and heavy, as if he’s been crying all night. He remembers nothing about the dream- red eyes and green fading from his mind with morning.

 


	7. The Voice and the Oath

**_No one among human beings is fortunate_ **   
**_or blessed right to the end._ **   
**_No one yet born has avoided pain._ **

**_-Euripides_ **

 

There are cities of crooked spires and gilded domes below the depths of the ocean where Makoto comes from. There is a monastery made entirely of black pearls, a host of priestesses dwelling within its shadows. Their skin like shining amber, and mermish tails of deep burgundy swaying along in calm currents of the deep. They wear no adornments, yet their scales shine with the light of a million stars, as they raise their hands to hail the ascension of Pisces.

Once every year, since he was a small child, Makoto has accompanied his parents to the ceremonial grounds, beneath moon-mad waves, watching from afar, as the Sisters of the Depth howled out their nocturnal prayers.

And among the other two-penny kings of the several marine kingdoms vying pitifully for nonexistent power, Makoto’s father would offer his gifts at the altar, proceeding alone, returning with darkened eyes and the disappointment of a prophet unable to speak with his god.

For if you were worthy, the Goddess spoke to you through chosen oracles from among the Sisters of the Depth.

But worthy or not, Makoto knew the gods to be always silent.

When other kings and queens boasted of having heard prophetic verses and holy secrets, Makoto knew them for liars. Every single one.

And his poor honest father, with his sad eyes, and nothing to be proud of- he would ruffle Makoto’s hair gently and always say, “Maybe next year, son. Maybe it will be you.”

And Makoto hated the hope in his voice.

He hated the betrayal boiling up in his chest even when he was 7. Like the sourness of nausea, the bitterness of regret for things he hadn’t yet done.

At first he did not realize he was breaking some unwritten rule. But the more he was seen floating up and up and up, chasing shadows of storm-clouds and the underbellies of ships, the more his kinfolk talked.

There were rumors and whispers that maybe his mother had slept with a shipwrecked sailor before she bonded herself to his father. Or that maybe his parents had both transformed into surface-walkers when he was conceived. A sacrilege against their kind. For you could only mate in your true form, singing out the true song of your heart.

Or that maybe the Sorceress in the Deep Dwelling had cursed him when he was small, and wandered too far from home.

He was _unnatural_.

_Unworthy_ to be the heir.

Something inside him had gone _wrong_.

 

And he’d believed them. But he could not fight against the thing that was raging inside his chest, threatening to rip him apart with every heartbeat.

One thing was certain. Despite the falsehoods following him around, Makoto Tachibana was not fit to be his parents’ heir. Lucky for him, his people did not abide by the laws of inheritance that other fiefdoms and petty kingdoms still practiced. Makoto’s parents ruled together, and had decreed that their little castle and its subjects would be inherited by the child who proved itself most capable of ruling.

So far, that child was turning out to be Makoto’s sister Ran. Already level-headed and clear-sighted, her silvery grey tail perfectly proportioned, and most importantly, a water child through and through. She had only been above the surface once, as was the tradition among her people, at the age of 5, to witness the rising of a blood moon after the passing of a storm. A good omen.  

 

And though his mother sighed and his father hung his head at the sight of him, they never stopped Makoto.

And with every year of his life, he grew bolder and bolder. Drawn closer to the shore, to the songs and sighs of the world above.

 

Had it been a dream that found the teal-eyed boy with raven hair for Makoto?

Had it been a prayer answered by a demon instead of a god?

The voice in a dream, and the empty orbs full of scarlet flames, shining out of the dark night. 

The voice promised him impossible things, and he was drunk on the dreamlike cadence of its words.

He bound himself with blood and a song. Things he was never supposed to give away.

It felt as if he'd sold his soul.

 

And now it had come to this.

Luring Sousuke away from his home, stealing his heart, healing him, promising him distant horizons neither of them could ever reach.

 

When they first met, the boy’s eyes were wreathed in clouds of death. He wanted it. He wanted the water to take him. All Makoto did was...

No, he must not dwell on it.

Not yet, anyway.

The woman said so. She said...

 

He’d met her under a blood moon- on the shore, walking on two legs- the last of the rain dissipating with the fading grey clouds.

A good omen, he’d been told. 

But what worth does a good omen have for a blasphemer? 

Her voice called out from a cavern, a hidden place along the uncertain border between water and earth . A place of darkness and bones of the dead. 

What was it she told him? Her words, out of focus in his memory, sound like a lost lullaby now. A thing he’d heard when he was very young, and couldn’t remember anymore. Not in its entirety.

A life under the ocean, for a life above.

Something like that.

 

And how long does he have to continue this farce?

He cannot expect to remain here afterwards.

Yet, he’s already grown fond, formed attachments.

He always did have a smile too easily shared with strangers. Made his mother worry all the time.

The blue-eyed boy knows something he won’t say. The quiet one who dreams ocean-dreams even while awake. The murky shadows dappling his irises whisper uncertain secrets. A language Makoto might know. From some distant lifetime. If he can only remember.

If only Makoto had met Haruka before this began. Before the other boy. The one sleeping next to him now, head against Makoto’s chest, whimpering pathetically in his sleep, clutching onto Makoto for dear life.

Are those tear stains drying on his sallow cheeks?

Such a lonely, barren life.

 

Unwittingly- moved by some ancient, demonic malice- his fingers reach for the sleeping boy’s hair, smoothing it away from his slightly feverish forehead.

The boy’s thin lips curl into a phantom smile, his head against Makoto’s chest, the rushing breath in his body measuring the beat of Makoto’s green-glass heart.

The inky patterns on his shoulder ripple like unfurling billows. Makoto thinks he can make out the shape of something forbidden among the lines. 

His heart clenches, and he breaks out in a cold sweat. 

_I don't have to let you go if I don't want to. Isn't that true? I could break the oath. I could..._

 

_**I'll be watching you, boy. Always in your shadow. On the earth. Or under the waves. Until the promise is kept. You cannot escape me.** _

 

The voice creeps up his spine like a sludge of blood. Makoto shakes himself awake, his fingers finding Sousuke's, curling up tightly. 

 

_I am not in love with you_ , Makoto whispers to himself.

_I cannot be in love with you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is such a highly experimental fic for me. And I'm honestly thankful to every single person who's taking time out to read this.


	8. Bone, Flower, Song

_**"The lustre of the flowers** _

_**Has faded and passed,** _

_**While on idle things** _

_**I have spent my body** _

_**In the world's long rains. "** _

 

_**-Ono Komachi** _

 

 

Days go by swiftly when he wants them to linger.

The hours rush past Sousuke as he tries to prolong them, to savour every minute he spends with Makoto.

Maybe it’s the way his life has been up until this moment which makes him think like a cynical middle-aged accountant, but he has this impending sense of doom hovering around the edges of his perception.

Like everything he has right now with Makoto will end.

_Because everything ends, sooner or later._

It’s Sousuke’s mantra. A reminder to himself that life is cyclical, like the seasons, and no matter how lovely the sakura blossoms appear in the spring, the branches bearing them will die one day, and be weighed down by snow as the year turns.

 

******

 

Makoto settles into Iwatobi life easily.

Attempts to get a 17 year old merman, mostly illiterate (in Japanese, or any other human language really), enrolled into high school prove pretty futile. His birth is not registered in any system, and faking identity is not as easy as most animes make it appear. Since it isn’t unheard of for some teenagers to start working after completing middle school, Makoto soon secures a waiter’s job at the little udon shop by the train station.

Sousuke sometimes finishes his weekend shifts at the convenience store early, and makes his way to Makoto’s workplace for dinner.

It’s entrancing to watch Makoto serving customers with a smile that never seems to flicker, flitting back and forth, carrying bowlfuls of udon. He makes something as banal as serving noodles to hungry students and office workers, into a graceful sort of dance.  Makoto is so full of joy and life that Sousuke finds himself caught in his spell.

Sousuke sits at a corner table by the window, watching the trains come and go. Makoto brings him his order, which never changes- udon topped with tofu and a fishcake, which Sousuke liberally sprinkles with spices before slurping up in matter of 5 minutes.

He’s forgotten that half a year ago, he couldn’t even taste the food that his aunt tried to force on him.

Makoto has swept him along in a wave of complacence and he is learning to live his life properly. It’s like being able to see colors for the first time after years of looking at a grey world.

Often, Sousuke runs into Haru at the little udon shop, sitting quietly at the counter, slowly picking at his bowl (which always comes with a side order of grilled mackerel for some unusual reason), watching Makoto as he works.

Sousuke doesn’t really like the weird, quiet camaraderie the two of them have concocted together- like a secret club for two members that Sousuke isn’t allowed to join.

Once, his jealousy got the better of him and he ended up asking Makoto why he and Haruka had become friends so quickly.

Makoto had only smiled up at the starry sky as the two of them walked home together, hand in hand, and kissed Sousuke’s cheek reassuringly.

“I don’t know what it is, but there’s something familiar about Haru. Like I’ve always known him. Like he’s home. A self-contained ocean walking around on two feet, dreaming water dreams while he lives above the surface.”

Makoto’s explanation had done nothing to assuage Sousuke’s fears about Haru stealing away his merman.

Makoto seemed to read his mind, and after they were home, undressing together in Sousuke’s room, Makoto had kissed his shoulder, tracing the strange patterns growing more complicated with every day that passed.

“It’s not the way it is with you, Sousuke. Haru is....He’s different. Like he’s a part of myself that I lost a long time ago. But I don’t feel _that_ way towards him, you know.” Makoto rested his head on Sousuke’s healed shoulder as he talked.

“And what way is _that_?” Sousuke smiled to himself, drowning in the closeness of Makoto.

“ _This_ way...” Makoto’s kiss was long and deep.

They ended up kissing until they finally fell asleep on the same tatami.

 

Most nights end this way since Makoto has found his way into Sousuke’s life.

Sousuke keeps falling deeper and deeper into a waking stupor, lost in Makoto’s kisses, bewitched.

 

******

 

After rolling her eyes considerably, asking pointed questions about Makoto’s family, and failing to obtain any legitimate answers, Leiko seemed to give up. She had accepted Makoto for who he was. A mystery of sorts.

Leiko likes to pride herself on her openness, and her imagination.

She thinks that as long as Makoto can keep Sousuke smiling the way he does, she can put up with him, despite the fact that he doesn’t quite belong in this ordered little world of hers.

But sometimes, in the dead of night, reading or fussing over one of her oil paintings, Leiko feels a dread fall all over her little house. A hushed quiet underneath which a babble of witching whispers hides- lying in wait.

Waiting for what, though?

She cannot say, but the silence is as unsettling as it is short-lived.

Before she can strain her ears and listen to the secrets it holds in its bloody heart, it slithers away into the darkness, and the night’s chorus of summer cicadas and ocean waves resumes.

She feels like her mind is wavering, and doesn’t entirely belong to herself anymore.

There is something very unnatural, very bloodcurdlingly strange, about Makoto.

But every time she tries to suss out his secret, she loses sight of it, and a sense of vague terror fills her core to the brim.

Her dreams are colored in shades of red.

Her house feels like it is being haunted.

Yet she cannot seem to do anything about it.

In her more lucid moments, she thinks of being cursed.

Cursed so she can only glimpse the truth through a thick fog of enchantment.

A truth with fangs and claws covered with flakes of rusting blood.

 

******

 

Makoto sits on the tatami waiting for Sousuke to finish bathing.

While he waits, he whispers strange words under his breath- a chant to chill your bones.

In a pouch of golden silk are four small glass vials and a little jade dish, smaller than his palm.

He takes it out and places it right in the centre of the room.

Out of the first vial, he takes out a sprinkle of something that looks like sawdust, waxen white, like old powdered bones.

In the second one is a dark green liquid- almost black-with the consistency of stagnant water. He measures out 3 drops with a thin glass pipe, and pours them into the dish.

The third vial contains crushed petals, dry and crumbling, which were once a vivid pink color.  He takes a pinch of the dead flowers, and adds it to his dish.

The fourth vial contains fragments of a shell. Makoto takes one out carefully and drops it into the mixture.

Placing the vials back in his pouch, he withdraws a thin sharp shard of coral. Pulling up the sleeve of Sousuke’s yuakata which he always wears to bed, Makoto cut his skin with the coral- a shallow, painful slicing of the pale epidermis covering the veins in his wrist. Clenching his fist, he draws out three drops of blue-green blood.

The mixture in the little jade dish fizzles and smokes as the sludge of blood trickles onto it. A silvery grey smoke slips through the house, shrouding it in complete silence.

In the unnatural quiet that follows, Makoto sings.

Words he is never ever meant to sing to anyone but the other half of his soul.

As he sings, his voice cracks and breaks, and tears stain his face.

 

It is over in a matter of minutes.

The smoke dissipates and the little golden pouch disappears with all its contents.

When Sousuke walks back into the room, feeling a light lightheaded, which he assumes is a result of staying in the bath too long, Makoto is sitting in the middle of his room, head bowed low, as if gaining his breath back after running for miles.

“Are you feeling okay, Makoto?” Sousuke sits down beside him, smoothing his soft brown hair gently.

“I...Yes. Of course I’m fine.” Makoto’s smile looks tired, his face pale as death.

“You don’t have to hide anything from me, Makoto.” Sousuke leans forward and kisses his forehead.

Makoto looks at him carefully, scanning his face.

“I have a favor to ask you, Sousuke.”

“What is it?”

“I want you do to me what I do to you.”

“I...I don’t understand Makoto...What do you mean?”

“I want you to fuck me. Enter me. Fill me up with yourself.”

 

Sousuke gapes at Makoto, going numb all over, unable to comprehend the demand that’s just been made.

He swallows thickly as Makoto slips out of the yukata and takes Sousuke’s face in both hands, kissing him lightly on the lips.

 

**_“I want you to make me yours tonight, Sousuke.”_ **

 

As they kiss each other, furiously at first, then more gently, the sleeves of Makoto’s yukata slide down his arms, exposing them.

In the light of the new moon, Makoto’s right forearm glistens with hundreds of small cuts- a tapestry of cruelty he inflicts on himself every night.

Though Sousuke trails kisses down that very arm as he undresses Makoto, pushing him onto the tatami, he cannot see the marks.

Just like he cannot hear the song that is meant for him.

Just like he cannot see the tears Makoto cries every night after he falls asleep.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those of you who waited for this update, I'm sorry it took so long.  
> Since April, I've had a bit of trouble with writing, for certain reasons I would rather not disclose.  
> I got to the root of the problem last month, and I've been trying to get back on my feet and write properly again since then. I've had a lot of support from various sources, and I'm thankful for all of it. If it wasn't for that, I would probably have abandoned these stories out of despair, and regretted my decision later.  
> If you've stuck around while I got my shit together, thank you.


	9. The Memory of Dreaming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is turning into a lot of fun for me. Different from anything I've done before. It's changing its shape now, and becoming something quite different to what I intended it to be when I started.  
> I am really happy to share it with those of you who have found it, and liked it.  
> Sorry it keeps taking me forever to update it.

_**"Oh! these days,** _

_**How my sad heart** _

_**Slips back to the past,** _

_**Yearning for those I knew** _

_**In the palace of old.** _

 

_**My life in former days** _

_**Has become misted,** _

_**As of a dream.** _

_**So may this home of woven reeds** _

_**Grow old into my past."** _

 

_**-from Heike Monogatari** _

 

 

 

 

 

**From the Diary of Nanase Haruka, Age 17**

 

_It’s a dream I have, only it feels more than a dream._

_For 3 months now, night after night, I find myself breathing the ocean in through my skin._

_The deep darkness of the ocean takes me in, swallows me whole, and embraces me._

_It should be cold enough to freeze my blood. The pressure should crush my bones to powder, and my flesh into pulp._

_But behind me, something flashes silvery blue, cutting apart the darkly dense water, weaving a path through it._

_I can move through the water the way I have always wanted, as if it is an extension of my own being._

_But I am not entirely myself in this dream either._

_It plays out like a borrowed memory. Like a life I should have had, but was taken from me before I could be born into it._

_In the distance, ahead of me, turrets rise out of the ocean’s floor- pearlescent as if they’re carved out of the moon’s light when it’s full. They light up the darkness around me, and call out to me, beckoning me home._

_I try to swim towards their silent keening call, but something holds me back._

_Tentacles, shimmering like indigo ink, reach out from the abyss of a crevasse scarring the ocean’s floor, and wrap themselves around the borrowed body which is mine only while I sleep._

_The pain that follows is excruciating. I feel its intensity piercing through the dream, subsuming my reality._

_I try to scream, but there is no sound._

_Only the silent, dark ocean choking me up._

_There is blood behind me- fluttering through the turgid waves of the deep. Its bluish-green hue is almost indistinguishable from the water. But it shines where it spills- ribbons of golden light waver through it like false sunlight._

_The silvery blue of my lower body- this foreign, strange body that is mine and not mine at all- splits apart. I am torn right through the middle._

_Worse than death, worse than heartbreak- the pain of it eats me alive._

_And I am gasping for air._

_The water turns to poison, strangling life out of my limp body._

_Just before I wake up, I feel sand between my toes, and watch the night sky twinkling with myriads of stars above me._

_The air I breathe feels new, feels alien._

_In the distance, the waves break, and the ocean splits open._

_A pair of green eyes lingers for a while, looking towards me, before disappearing beneath the ocean’s surface._

_Not exactly the color of Makoto’s, but close enough to deceive me in the dream._

_When I open my eyes again, I search for him desperately, weeping the tears of someone else’s heartache._

_I am overcome with the urge to see him, be near him._

_Everything feels temporary._

_Everything feels empty._

_My world is a glass bowl falling through the air, about to shatter into a million fragments._

 

 

*********

 

 

The painting has been the most irritating artistic block for Leiko for around a year now.

She started it on a whim, in the middle of an autumn night, with a storm raging outside.

She’d woken up from a dream she could not recall for the life of her, but something inside her was moved so completely by the forgotten vision that she felt compelled to paint it.

She still remembers the frenzied way in which she squeezed out paint in the half-dark of her lamplit room, with lightning searing through the sky outside- molten gold against inky black.

Her hands moved as if possessed by some demonic force.

Paint seeped between her fingers like congealing blood.

The storm had cleared with the dawn- the last of the clouds dissipating before the rising sun.

When Leiko stepped back from her canvas, it was nothing but a swirling, churning mess of gray and red.

 

She sits before it now, mesmerized, not really hearing the slightly breathless laughter coming from her nephew’s room.

There is a corner of the canvas where grey and red intensify, giving way to black.

A blackness so deep and so absolute, it annihilates light.

It draws her eye towards it now, and she can see it taking shape.

Monstrous and not at all human.

Her vision blurs and the room spins.

Through the heart of the black mass blighting her canvas, something starts oozing out.

It looks like blood.

But it isn’t red.

It’s like seawater, but thicker.

Blue and green.

Sludge-like and heavy.

The room smells like rot.

Like death.

And decay.

Leiko thinks she should scream.

She thinks she should set the canvas on fire.

Burn down the whole damn house, the whole damn town.

Let the ocean burn, if it could.

An instinctual panic throws her shivering to her knees, her sight still unfocused.

She feels like grabbing Sousuke and running away, far away.

Into the mountains, into the city, into the forest.

Far, far, far away from this damnable ocean and that green-eyed boy.

She collapses on the floor, drowning on dry land, unable to breathe.

 

It stops as soon as it started, and just as suddenly.

Instead of ripping the canvas apart with both hands like she should, Leiko clutches the paintbrush between her fingers, and gets to work.

 

 

*********

 

 

Sousuke’s tongue traces the pink pucker of Makoto’s entrance.

Makoto’s back is on the tatami, his knees lifted above him, everything exposed completely to Sousuke’s appreciating gaze.

He moans a little too loudly as the tip of Sousuke’s tongue forces its slick way inside his anus.

He grabs blindly for his yukata among both their discarded clothes on the floor, but finds Sousuke’s boxers instead.

Snatching them up, Makoto shoves the boxers into his mouth, blocking out the sounds of his desire.

Sousuke’s scent overwhelms his senses, and he can barely stop himself from thrashing around on the floor.

This sensation of being at someone else’s mercy, of abandoning himself to someone else’s desire- is as new as it is intoxicating.

Makoto feels Sousuke tasting him, going deeper and deeper.

And he wants more.

So much more.

_He wants everything._

His eyes well up with tears that have nothing to do with Sousuke’s fingers stretching him out.

The sensation is invasive and painful.

But there is pleasure at the edges of it.

 

Makoto wants Sousuke.

He wants Sousuke at any cost.

Sousuke’s voice sounds distant, asking him if he’s ready, asking him to relax.

He enters Makoto slowly.

The pain is excruciating at first, and Makoto feels like he is being ripped in half.

He bites down on the dark blue cloth of Sousuke’s boxers, as hard as he can.

And then a new sensation starts overriding the pain.

It isn’t exactly pleasure, tinged as it is with a deep aching.

Yet Makoto wants more.

Sousuke’s body slides over his, and he begins to move inside Makoto.

Makoto can hear Sousuke panting, grunting as he thrusts into him, deeper and deeper, reaching some secret part inside Makoto, which thrills at the joining of their bodies.

 

The world around Makoto fades and turns into a dream, a memory, a forgotten story.

There are no promises to be kept, no lives left behind, no prices to be paid.

Only the place where their bodies are linked together, melting into each other-only that is real.

 

As Sousuke cums inside Makoto, despite knowing full well he should pull out, he thinks he will faint.

Just as he orgasms, his mind going blackly blank, he hears a soft voice singing.

The most beautiful song ever heard by a human ear.

Like a siren’s call.

It speaks of timeless beauty, and deathless love.

It speaks of heartbreak and a wanting so deep, so painful that nothing can heal it.

 

And Sousuke feels as if his life is echoing through the sweet notes of this unearthly music.

And his heart aches with such longing, he feels like it will cost him his life.


	10. At the Edge of the Ocean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, sorry for not updating this in months. Real life got in the way. A lot.   
> This is turning out to be a rather compact story of curses and witches. Which I did not intend on at all when I started it. Who knows if that's a good or bad thing?  
> Time will tell, I guess.  
> And hopefully, it will be a much shorter gap until the next chapter.
> 
> P.S. Thanks for sticking around and reading this weird little story.

 

_**"Was it you who came to me** _

_**Or I who went to you-** _

_**I know not.** _

_**Was it dream or reality,** _

_**Sleeping or awake?"** _

 

_**-Ariwara Narihira** _

 

 

Makoto wanders by the breaking waves late at night, looking for a hint, a clue- maybe a bit of an old story lying about somewhere like a washed up seashell, glinting in the moonlight.

His hips are sore, and his insides raw from being entered. He stumbles about, losing his balance, falling on the cooling sand on his knees.

The moon looks sallow and old- a dull witness to the unraveling of a petty tale of love and lies that keeps repeating itself over and over and over.

 

The other boy sits by the shore, at the invisible boundary dividing land from water. His legs are extended before him, reaching out to the tumult of waves, the distorted reflection of the moon and stars above.

A broken mirror.

A story in fragments.

Memories that should be forgotten resurfacing in a chance meeting.

 

Haruka does not show the slightest hint of surprise as Makoto drags his knees through the sand to sit beside him.

Waves crash onto the shore, in slow progression, seeping through the sand.

An inevitability.

Makoto does not need to speak for Haruka to know his mind.

The moon shines down on the tangent of light connecting the two boys, as old as their souls.

The ocean calls out to them, seductive, threatening.

 

“Why do I dream about you? I shouldn’t, should I?” Haru’s voice can barely be heard over the beckoning song of the ocean.

Makoto shakes his head, his eyes lowered.

It’s troublesome to sit. Traces of pain still linger. He can still feel Sousuke’s overwhelming presence within his body.

“What’s it like? Underneath.” Haruka sighs longingly as a wave crashes over his ankles, the water rushing between his toes.

“Beautiful. Terrifying. Cold...As if it could eat you alive if it pleased, soul and all.” Makoto pauses for a second, regretting spilled secrets.

 

The air crackles as though imbued with an ancient magic.

Not at all benign.

A darkling creature with teeth dripping blood.

Red, blue, black.

Blood magic.

The magic of women.

A mystery so deep, its roots tangled so hopelessly with the tethers binding Makoto’s soul to his body, that he feels utterly possessed by it.

 

“Why did you want to leave?” Haru finally turns to look at Makoto. His eyes as blue as the ocean shimmering under a summer sun.

Makoto laughs quietly, shaking his head at the unraveling of his life in front of this quiet, sea-souled boy.

“Why did I leave? I don’t really know. Not even now. But I remember...I heard a song once. When I was still a child. It floated through the water like a spell, a curse. I don’t know what to call it anymore. I knew one thing though. Even if I didn’t quite understand it, I knew it.”

Haru draws in his knees, suddenly afraid of some unknown force. The water gleams, sinisterly dark, as if it has claws. Claws that will sink into Haru’s skin, and rob him of life’s blood. He balks in the face of this alien sensation. A new sort of fear. An unwanted terror.

Makoto keeps speaking in a musical voice, echoing the sudden malice of the ocean.

“The thing I knew for sure was that the one who sang the song that floated down through the water to me- that person was above, not below. And I was terrified of not being with him. Water threatened to choke me. I woke up with dreams of drowning still caught in my lungs. Fear made me foolish. And now...I’ve lost everything. In the finding of it, I ended up losing it all over again.” Tears glimmer down Makoto’s face, his eyes shining darkly.

An ocean lit up by the moon.

“Again?” Haru catches on to that word, and echoes it back to Makoto.

“ _Again_...I don’t...I don’t know why I said again...I wonder...” Makoto looks up at Haru, and is struck with a strange sense of recognition.

 

He _knows_ this boy. He _knows_ these eyes. He _knows_. He _remembers..._

 

Something buried at the base of his mind starts creeping up, disrupting the façade of memory, breaking through carefully erected barriers, flowing thickly, deathlike- congealed blood suddenly liquefying, animating a dead, decaying body.

 

Makoto shivers, seized with an unspoken, ominous alarm.

He feels as if fear is eating up his entire being.

He has never felt like this before. Not even when he swam up to the shore, following the ocean into a dark cavern.

Not even when he faced the fire-eyed woman.

Not even when he bartered with her for the price of an innocent soul, for the cost of a green-gold body that cut its way through the watery depths with the ease and grace of a serpent.

 

Haru’s hands are on his shoulders, holding him still.

Makoto gains back his breath, and returns to himself.

He lets Haru wrap his arms around him.

He lets Haru hold him close, without words.

Calmness, then.

Followed by grief.

Such searing sadness that he forgets to breathe.

Makoto pushes Haru away, his heart stopping again at the look of hurt in a pair of blue eyes.

“I...I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me...” Makoto stares at Haru, trying to remember, trying to understand, trying not to be afraid anymore.

“It’s okay. I felt that too. The memory...It’s like my dream. I don’t understand it. But it feels like...”

“...like a secret.”

“Yes.”

“But how do you know the things I know, Haru?”

“I don’t know. I just do...”

 

They sit together in the sand, trying to remember. Together.

They linger too long.

The moon sets.

The ocean stills.

 

_She stands at the edge of the ocean, at the invisible boundary dividing land from water._

_Burning eyes and a night-black smile._

_Neither here nor there._

_And lost eternally._

_Eternally cursed._

_She watches the two boys._

_The one who has bargained with her._

_And the one who will soon come looking for her._

_She leaves as suddenly and softly as she appears._

_Time runs out, vanishing with her._

 

Through the corner of his eye, Haruka Nanase watches the witch’s seaweed hair, and hears the song of wind whistling through her hollow bones.

As if coming through a sudden fog, memory calls out to him- fatally, frantically.

The remembrance of it breaks his heart in two.

He doesn’t cry, because then Makoto would remember too.

He seals it away with the lonely knowledge of someone who has lived too long, and seen too much.

 

Makoto slips back into bed just before dawn.

Sousuke’s heart beats steadily.

An affirmation of life.

 [A ticking clock.]

Exhausted, frightened, and haunted by someone else’s memory, he falls asleep in Sousuke’s arms.

 

Sousuke wakes up before Makoto.

His head feels light, as if he’s had a little too much to drink.

Then he remembers the night before.

He thinks of being inside Makoto, cumming inside Makoto, and his face flushes.

He has never done this before.

Nothing has ever felt so good before.

Makoto is asleep on his stomach, naked to the waist, his lower body barely covered by a thin blanket.

Sousuke wants to straddle him just the way he is, and fuck him until Makoto wakes up, screaming his name.

It’s like a drug creeping slowly through his bloodstream.

And he is unaware of the addiction already curling its smoky, thing fingers around his heart, threatening to crush it.

 

Makoto opens his eyes, yawning, and smiles.

And the raging of Sousuke’s blood quietens momentarily.

 

Suddenly, Makoto’s smile disappears, and his eyes widen.

Sousuke raises his eyebrows questioningly, following the line of Makoto’s gaze.

 

The black-green pattern on his shoulder...

Overnight, it seems to have become much more intricate.

It looks as if...

“It’s complete.” Makoto raises himself up, and traces the pattern, still looking a little shocked.

“What is this? It is complete now? Does it mean something?” Sousuke wants to know what he is marked with, the meaning of the words that have cured him.

“It’s my name.” Makoto’s voice almost breaks.

“Your name?”

“My name. The wish I granted you. The wish your heart ached for. And now we’re bound together. My name on your body...This is the proof of it.”

Makoto bends his head then, as if hiding away a lie.

 

_All wishes are lies pretending to be true._

Sousuke wonders who told him that.

He wonders why there is a voice in his head, screaming at him to cut off the tainted flesh with a burning blade.

 

And then Makoto shrugs the blanket off his beautiful body and kisses him- straddling his lap and biting his earlobe before taking him in his mouth.

The shouting in Sousuke’s head fades to a whisper before stopping altogether.

The sound of silence, of time running out.

And curses too treacherous, too old to be broken.


End file.
